Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) (7 page)

But, even that mantra didn’t help. Curiosity
was my biggest inner demon. I JUST HAD TO KNOW.

I held the phone as I thought further about
what he could want. My father said Laurent said it was school
related so maybe he just needed to know what the English homework
assignment was. That couldn’t be it—he had his whole clan to ask
about that. And we didn’t have homework on the first day of school
anyway.

My biggest fear was that he might address his
weird behaviors. In a way that would be great because then maybe I
could make sense of it all, but on the other hand, I felt so
nervous around him to the point that I didn’t think I could pull
off a meaningful or even coherent conversation.

Taking in a deep breath, I entered the number
into my phone. I had no idea what I was going to say. The best
thing to do was to just let him talk, but I had so many
questions.

His phone started to ring. I thought about
how strange it was that I even cared what he thought of me. The
idea that he had such an effect on my mind made me angry. As the
phone rang and rang, I started getting madder and madder. Nobody
made me feel this way. I felt so out of control that I decided in a
fury to just hang up.

Immediately I went back to my chores. I
stuffed the washed laundry in the dryer in a huff. And then I went
into my room and started researching things on the internet like
“people who eat teardrops,” but I only found a recipe for how to
cook a teardrop roast and other nonsense.

Hoping to find answers on how Laurent
teleported his body to my desk in English class, I looked up
“teleportation.” I found some interesting scientific information
and theories, but other than some kooks’ beliefs, it hadn’t been
proven as possible.

I heard a knock at my bedroom door. My father
peeked his head inside. “Time to go to bed kiddo,” he said with a
smile. “The house looks good.”

“Thanks Dad.” I was glad he appreciated my
hard work.

“Maybe we should put you on restriction more
often.” His smile widened.

“Ha ha,” I responded in playful sarcasm.

He walked into the room and kissed me on the
cheek. “What are you looking at?” His eyes were fixated on the
computer screen.

“It’s nothing,” I breathed as I quickly
closed the window.

“You’re interested in teleportation?” He
asked warily.

I shut down the computer. “Just thought it
was an interesting topic.” His question made me uncomfortable. I
was troubled with my perceptions of what happened in the classroom
between Laurent and me and I didn’t want to expound upon it. If I
actually explained, he might send me to a mental institution.

His body was tense. “If you ever see anyone
with those abilities, run away as fast as you can and stay away
from them.” He had an overly stern expression on his rugged
face.

I laughed under my breath. “Okay, Dad. Sure
thing.” My response was mocking. “As far as I can tell
teleportation is just science fiction. People can’t do that in real
life.”

He chuckled now. “You’re right.” He shook his
head, but I could still see a glint of concern in his eyes which
confused me. “Get right to bed now,” he said as he patted my
back.

“No problem.” I moved my chair out and stood
up as he walked to the door. “I just have to do my strengthening
exercises and then I’ll go to sleep.”

He was happy with that. “I’m glad you’re so
diligent with those. You always need to keep strong and
conditioned; always prepare for attack.”

“Gotcha,” I responded with a smile as I got
down on the floor in pushup position.

“Sleep well.” He left the room.

I finished my pushups. But, while I was
engaged in my hand weight exercises, I started thinking about
Marine. It hadn’t dawned on me until now. Even though I wailed on
her in the face only nights ago, her features showed no signs of
bruising. She looked as beautiful as ever today at school.

This didn’t make sense to me because I hit
her very hard several times. She should have had a black eye,
bruising, or something. But, her face looked flawless.

I was working on my shoulder reps now as I
tried to figure it out. The only explanation I could come up with
was that possibly she was an excellent makeup artist. Maybe she
covered her bruises with sophisticated foundations. I had seen
people do wonders with makeup on television so it was possible. She
seemed like the type, obsessed with beauty.

I finished up my short workout and went to
sleep. My dreams were all about Laurent Moreau. There was one I
remember most vividly. I was lying on my stomach on a king’s table
set with the finest delicacies. Laurent sat before me in regal
18
^th
century attire as he twisted a strand of my hair
lovingly. The most beautiful music was playing in the room. We
stared into each other’s eyes and told each other silly little
jokes as I giggled and he chuckled wryly. He took my finger and
placed it in his mouth.

The next day at school was really hot. I
wished I had worn shorts. I was surprised to see that Laurent
wasn’t in English class. I wondered why he wasn’t there. Maybe he
was still sick. But, somehow, I didn’t think he was ever sick in
the first place. As unreasonable and narcissistic as it sounded, I
feared he was avoiding me. Maybe I should have been more persistent
in returning his call. I could only wonder what he needed.

I wanted to ask his friends about his
whereabouts, but thought better of it. The exchange students were
looking as attractive and charismatic as ever. During the class
discussion they were aloof, only participating when they were
called on. And then, they answered the teacher’s questions
superbly. Their intellectual skills were impressive. The school
system in France must have been very advanced.

From time to time, I noticed Marine and even
the others glancing at me. Marine watched me more. I did detect
that she seemed to wear a lot of eye makeup, but her skin looked
flawless and clear. It didn’t appear as if she had any foundation
or cover up on her skin. I must have been mistaken, I reasoned with
myself. She must be wearing it and be really good with face paints
because I couldn’t see any bruises whatsoever and her complexion
looked so natural.

Throughout the day, I kept expecting to see
Laurent at school. I hoped that he was simply at a doctor’s or
dentist’s appointment and would return shortly. I hoped that he
wasn’t avoiding me. It just couldn’t be possible.

Ashton stopped me in the hall to tell me that
Danny agreed to double date with us. I warned Ashton about my
father and his rules of forbidding me to swim in the ocean. He was
actually really easy going about it and didn’t make any overt
judgments which made me feel good.

Cooking class dragged on. The teacher made it
way more important than it should have been. She showed us all
sorts of kitchen utensils and gave us way too much homework. For
our first assignment, we had to memorize all the different types of
cooking appliances and know their uses. It was tedious, annoying
work, but I was just glad that we didn’t have to use the oven or
stove yet.

When I told Agatha about the double date, she
was thrilled. She was already talking about how she was going to
make all sorts of snack foods for us to picnic on the shore. When
she saw Danny buying food in the cafeteria, she ran over to him and
hugged him like a child.

He looked surprised, but laughed
acceptingly.

I stood behind Agatha while she chatted with
Danny. Now that I was the third wheel and all attention was off me,
my curiosity started getting the best of me again. I kept catching
myself looking over at the exchange students, wondering if Laurent
had returned, but there was just the four of them: Marine,
Brigitte, Marcel, and Pascal.

“Hey, Danny.” I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Do you know why Laurent Moreau isn’t here?” I whispered because
even though the très beaux were across the room, I was unreasonably
paranoid they might hear me.

Danny smiled broadly. He looked a little too
happy that I was imploring him for information. “I was wondering
that myself, but when I asked them, they ignored me.”

“Really?” I touched my chin.

“Yeah,” he responded in a high pitched
voice.

“I wonder why?” I glanced over at them,
putting my hand on my hip now. Oddly, they were eating on fine
china. Danny was right—they all sat up very straight at the table
and seemed to have perfect manners. I noticed how they laid their
napkins in their laps like they were eating in a fine restaurant
rather than in a cafeteria.

“I wonder a lot of things about them,” he
snorted. “They are the most interesting people I have ever met. And
funny enough you’re not the only one asking me about Laurent. I
think ten other girls have already asked me the same question.”

“Oh.” My face grew hot.

“It’s really kind of hilarious.”

“What’s funny?” Agatha asked.

He was glad to explain. “Now that I spend
time escorting the exchange students, everybody wants to talk to
me. I know it’s not me of course, but so many people are fascinated
with them and are always asking me for information.” He laughed a
goofy laugh and Agatha joined in too.

I sort of rolled my eyes and wanted to leave.
I didn’t like how this school year was going so far. Boys seemed to
complicate everything. I just needed to focus on getting into
Berkley and now I was already going on my first date ever with one
of the more popular boys in school, Agatha was getting all wrapped
up in Danny, and I couldn’t stop obsessing over Laurent.

I just wanted things to get back to
normal—just me and Agatha. But, somehow I knew that wasn’t
possible. Something inside of me hinted at a life unexpected. I
sensed that my reality was going to dramatically change and that I
had absolutely no control over it. It was coming fast and all I had
to do was let go. Just enjoy the ride, I told myself. Let go.

1. Golden Bronze
   

The next day at school the lectures became
more intense. The teachers began assigning extensive homework. They
all pretty much said the same things—that advanced placement
students need to prepare for the competitive nature of college. If
we think high school is difficult, just wait until the universities
get a hold of us. “Sink or swim,” more than one of them said.

My obsessions over Laurent’s peculiarities
were growing. I just couldn’t figure him out and my curiosities
were getting to me. Yesterday Laurent wasn’t at swim practice and
again today he wasn’t in English class.

But, as before, the other French students
were there. When I walked into the classroom, I thought I saw
Pascal Beaudoin, with his long black hair that was tied over his
shoulder, give me a dirty look and then turn back to Marine where
he continued in conversation.

I was confused and felt uncomfortable. I
considered the possibility that maybe the look I thought I saw may
not have been directed at me. If his expression was nasty as I
feared, maybe he was thinking about something negative and just
happened to look at me at that moment, that the expression on his
perfect face wasn’t for me.

But, then, a little later as I watched the
French students from the corner of my eye while the teacher
lectured, I noticed Marcel Paradis in particular. While he was
leaning back comfortably in his chair, he ran his fingers through
his long dark brown hair. I stiffened, sensing that he was looking
at me. I turned to him. At once our eyes locked. I sensed anger in
his stare. I wasn’t sure, but his expression felt threatening.
Goosebumps lifted on my arms. It seemed like he held his gaze a
little too long. My face went pale.

I didn’t know what to do. I feared these two
friends of Laurent. What could I have possibly done to them? The
day before the whole group kept glancing at me. Their expressions
were neutral, but today, the male très beaux seemed to be
intentionally trying to intimidate me. I was scared.

For the rest of the class, I didn’t even look
at them. I kept my eyes on the teacher or on the notebook on my
desk. When the bell rang, I rushed to my Trig class to avoid any
confrontations in the halls.

At lunch, I kept a distance and when Agatha
went to the lunch line to talk to Danny, I didn’t follow. Instead I
walked to the other side of the cafeteria and leaned against the
wall as I quickly ate my food. I was relieved when Ashton came over
to me and invited me to his table.

I could hardly listen to his friendly
conversations because my heart was racing so fast for fear of the
French students. But, I was glad to be with him because I figured
the très beaux wouldn’t bother me if I was in his presence.

He tried to engage me in conversations with
his popular friends and I did my best to be polite and seem at
least moderately interested. I was relieved when Agatha joined us,
but my mind wasn’t present even then.

I just couldn’t figure out what had happened
to Laurent. Two days he had been absent and he never tried to call
me again. I had to know what had happened to him. Why wouldn’t the
très beaux tell Danny why he wasn’t in school when he asked? If he
was sick, wouldn’t they just say it? And now that Pascal and Marcel
may have been giving me negative looks, I could only wonder if it
had anything to do with my interactions or lack of interactions
with Laurent.

No, it wasn’t possible. I couldn’t imagine
that I could be that important at least not to these beautiful
creatures that had most of the kids in school spellbound with their
alluring manners and dreamlike qualities. It was egotistical to
think I had any impact on their lives. But, I did—otherwise why did
Marine Thibault attack me on Santa Monica Beach?

I just couldn’t stop thinking about it all.
My inquisitiveness was maddening. I had to figure out what was
going on. So, later that day, I found Danny by his locker and asked
him to find out where Laurent lived.